26 - Last Stand

City of Truro felt weak. He felt drained and he felt like every inch of his engine was freezing cold.

He drifted in the place between waking and sleep for goodness knew how long, his consciousness vaguely aware at times of things around him but unable to really process it.

He could sense the presence of an engine near him occasionally. One that felt similar to Flying Scotsman but wasn't. Sometimes he called out to the other engine, asking for Scotsman but the engine seemed disappointed when he did so.

He was vaguely aware of panic around him, rousing him slightly but not fully waking him. He heard voices and he heard shouts.

He tried to regain awareness, touch the waking world but he still felt too weak, too cold. Worst of all he felt alone.

Where was Flying Scotsman?

Was he alright?

What had happened to him?

He was so confused. Nothing made sense anymore, he just felt cold, right down to his frames.

Something touched him and he jolted in surprise. Another engine's buffers pressed against his own.

"Flying Scotsman?" He asked hopefully and this time he felt his lips move however his voice was a croak and sounded weak and frail.

"No, no," a voice said mournfully. "I'm still not Scotsman, I'm sorry."

Truro smiled slightly. He recognised that voice.

"Green Arrow," he smiled and he felt Arrow's buffers rise slightly, pleased that Truro had recognised him.

"Yes, it's Green Arrow," the V2's voice sounded relieved but still there was some tension behind his voice. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"I feel… weak," Truro muttered, still not opening his eyes. "I feel exceedingly cold too."

"But you're alive and that's what matters," Arrow smiled giving Truro with a gentle press of his buffers for reassurance.

Truro gave a feeble chuckle. "I suppose it is."

With some effort, Truro opened his eyes and found Green Arrow sitting before him, the larger green engine gazing at him worriedly.

"Hello my dear Arrow, I hope I didn't keep you waiting," Truro greeted the engine and Arrow rolled his eyes.

"Don't do that, you sound like Scotsman," Arrow remarked and Truro gave a weak chuckle.

"One tends to pick up things when around a big personality such as his," Truro said with a content smile. "I couldn't stand it once upon a time, now, I guess it's slowly become a part of me."

Green Arrow was gazing at Truro with deep sadness in his eyes.

"Before you speak," Truro cut across Arrow before he could do so. "Flying Scotsman is alive."

Arrow looked distressed.

"No he isn't I saw, I saw his human thing, body or whatever," Green Arrow mumbled. "I saw it! I saw it! Great Northern was- It was horrible! Humans shouldn't bend that way! His neck-"

Green Arrow began to panic and hyperventilate the memory of seeing Scotsman's human body just… lying there in a horrific way, it was just… too much.

"Arrow," Truro's voice called to him gently. "It's alright, breathe. Just focus on me."

Arrow trembled but looked up at Truro obediently, his eyes gazing up at him, carefully taking in his features. He took in the older engine's kind face and his gold trim and slowly calmed.

"I think you should go outside Arrow, get some fresh air," Truro urged the V2 gently.

"But I need to be here, to protect you," Green Arrow mumbled.

"I will be fine, Arrow," Truro smiled at the larger green engine. "You need a break, you're starting to panic. Please, I want you to look after yourself, my young friend."

Arrow gazed at Truro before smiling at him slightly.

"Okay," the younger engine said meekly.

He wanted to stay by Truro's side and make sure he was safe but at the same time, Truro was giving him a look that said he would be disappointed in him if he didn't.

"You might find a surprise while you're out there," Truro said with a mischievous smile to which Arrow raised an eyebrow at him.

"You look like Scotsman when you do that," Truro smirked at him and Arrow frowned at him annoyed before giving a huff of annoyance and departing the castle shed.

As soon as Arrow was out of view, Truro dropped his facade and gave a whimper of pain as his mangled wheels throbbed with pain and his entire body felt freezing cold.

The sudden absence of Arrow made dread and anxiety creep into his boiler. The bit of warmth that Arrow's presence provided was him was the only thing keeping his fears at bay. He resisted the urge to call for Arrow to come back.

The residual black smoke crept along his boiler and felt like the cutter's torch scraping across his magnificent paintwork. He trembled violently and squeezed his eyes shut, the terrible pain and the unforgiving refusal to let up.

Mallard was gone but being around him for so long. Constantly fighting him 24 hours for almost a month had left him near death and in severe disrepair.

He didn't even know if he had his soul left.

It certainly felt like all his Gold Dust was gone.

Had Mallard taken it completely and replaced it with Black Smoke?

The city of Truro had no idea but he was shocked if this was what Mallard had fought against, day in and day out for 50 years… it was truly admirable.

It was no wonder he had gone completely insane.

This wasn't life, this was torture, it was hell.

Truro felt ice-cold knives dig deep into his boiler as he felt something latch onto him and grip his very soul, crushing it, strangling it with tendrils that felt like malice and hate. He cried out in pain and suddenly wished that he hadn't sent Green Arrow away.

The Black Smoke only tightened its grip on him at the sound of his cries.

Sir Robert and the engines that were gathered at Kellsthorpe station stared at Flying Scotsman.

He had just randomly appeared before them, right in front of Gordon, with no explanation, no heard to his appearance, he'd just appeared out of thin air and sat on the rail expectantly, Ms Olivia perched on his buffer beam.

Olivia jumped off and onto the platform with the demand to know where Great Northern was. Sir Robert departed with a nervous look at Henry, Pendennis and Gordon who were all staring at Scotsman as he sat there sheepishly, waiting for a reaction.

Olivia assured him it was fine and ushered the confused Sir Robert to return to the Sodor Museum to deal with the aftermath of Mallard's rampage and check of Great Northern

No one said a word as the engines stared at Scotsman as he sat there, nervously looking at his brother, whose face was still wet with tears. An awkward silence settled over the small group for a few nervous moments.

Finally, it was Flying Scotsman who broke the silence.

"Surprise! I'm alive?" He said half-jokingly and Gordon just narrowed his eyes and blasted steam, startling Scotsman and making him jump.

"You're an idiot!" Gordon shouted at him angrily

"I know Gordon."

"An absolute selfish and stupid idiot!"

"I'm sorry, Big Brother."

Gordon just stared at his younger brother trembling in both shock and fury. He was also relieved but his anger at the fact that Scotsman had the audacity to just appear out of thin air right in front of him and make him look like a fool overridden any relief he may have.

"You… died! People said that you died! And yet you have the nerve to just suddenly appear in front of everyone in a gust of Gold Dust and expect everything to be okay!" Gordon was shouting now, his voice a bellow yet still couldn't hide the relief in his voice.

"No, no, I know what I did wasn't right and I knew you would chew me out but…" The Flying Scotsman mumbled sheepishly. "I'm alive. Yay?"

Gordon just stared at his brother as Scotsman gazed at him sheepishly.

Henry and Pendennis Castle watched the exchange carefully. They'd been completely blindsided when Flying Scotsman and Lady Olivia had appeared out of thin air in a shower of Gold Dust.

"I don't know what to do with you sometimes," Gordon growled at Scotsman. "You are a complete and utter disaster on wheels!"

"Yes I am," Scotsman said ruefully. "I'm truly sorry big brother."

Gordon just stared at him silently for a long while before suddenly slamming into his buffers in a sort of tackle hug. Scotsman held firm but only looked at his buffers shamefully.

He wasn't worthy of Gordon's love. Not with how he constantly left the poor blue engine in constant anxiety and stress over his stupid actions.

"I'm not going to ask for forgiveness," Scotsman spoke quietly. "I know I don't deserve it."

"Why would you go running after ihim?/i Gordon spat referring to Great Northern. "He deserves none of your sympathies."

"Everyone deserves some sympathy Gordon," Scotsman disagreed quietly. "Even North. Even Mallard. I'm only alive because of the sympathy of others. I want to return that, no matter the engine."

Gordon sighed as he stared at his brother then looked away.

"Your bleeding heart will get you killed one day," he said bitterly.

"Maybe, but it's also saved a lot of engines' lives, I'm willing to risk it," Scotsman declared. "I truly am sorry Gordon. But I'm a compassionate person. It's just who I am and I can't change that. I don't think I'd want to either."

Gordon stared at him before looking away.

"It wouldn't be you I guess," he agreed. "But you could at the very least tell me where you run off to or calm the charming schtick down."

Scotsman suddenly flashed a grin at his brother and gave him a wink.

"I can't change the fact that everybody loves me either," he laughed warm-heartedly. "I'm a charming fellow with a big heart."

Gordon pouted at his brother before blasting steam in his face eliciting a shriek of surprise from his brother.

Despite himself, Gordon found himself laughing, either from relief, stress or tiredness he didn't know but it felt good to release the tension he'd built up from his fear and desperation of his brother.

Flying Scotsman joined his laughter and pushed back against Gordon's buffers like the two brothers were hugging tightly.

Henry and Pendennis glanced at each and grinned widely, the brothers laughing infectious.

A distance away, Green Arrow just sat there, completely confused and shocked at what he had just witnessed.

"Is no one going to question the fact Flying Scotsman appeared out of nowhere?" He asked.

He was however completely ignored much to his displeasure.

"So why does the bossman like you so much anyway?" Trojan asked Duck. "Truro is usually reserved and doesn't socialise with us small engines. Hell, that man's eloped with the most famous engine in the British Isles. He doesn't usually get time us for small engines ay."

Duck frowned and stared up at the castle as they approached.

"I honestly don't know," Duck answered honestly. "When we first met, I didn't want to approach him, he was the jewel of the Great Western Railway. A shunter like myself had no business talking to someone of such high class."

"Then why did yer?"

"My friend Percy convinced me to go and talk to him," Duck mumbled.

"Ah yes, my brother, although I am surprised that another Great Western would convince you," Trojan laughed.

"Percy never worked on the Great Western like you or I," Duck explained. "He was privately owned by a freight company when the first Sir Hatt went to buy a new shunter. He went to Sodor after his company replaced him with another Pannier."

"Ah the lucky little devil," Trojan smiled. "Sometimes I wished I didn't have to deal with higher stuck-up classes of our railway you know? Always bossing us around, never grateful despite the fact that our jobs are equal if not more important than them."

Duck sighed. "I just didn't let them boss me around like the other shunters. Paddington was too busy to put up with them so they got their coaches on our time and not theirs. I guess I was lucky that our Stationmaster's always prioritised our work to make sure everything ran smoothly."

"The way to be, the way to be," Trojan agreed heartily. "These bigger classes always talk down to us, not realising our worth. It's quite appalling."

"It is," Duck said. He looked at Trojan. "That said, Truro was wonderful and nice when I spoke to him. He was nice when everyone else spoke to him too. Never had to deal with the attitude of a King or other City class with him. He was of course proud of the Great Western as was myself but he never once incited conflict with the others."

"That is honestly surprising. When he was younger, a brand new engine he was extremely proud and boastful," Trojan put in and Duck was surprised. "Quite rude and outspoken. A lot of the higher class engines didn't like him."

"You knew Truro when he was young?" Duck asked suddenly intrigued. He'd never really heard much about the famous engine's youth.

"Worked in the same area as he, never talked to him though," Trojan explained. "But he was proud, boastful and he was extremely impulsive and reckless. Only the best crews could reign him in. Unsurprising people started claiming he'd done 100mph on a secret run. He'd be the one to do such a thing when the Great Western valued safety and proper etiquette so highly.."

Duck was intrigued. He'd never heard of stories about this younger and impulsive Truro. It was quite a contrast to the sensible, intelligent and calm engine he'd always known him as.

"I've never heard of Truro doing such things," Duck admitted. Maybe he didn't know Truro as well as he thought he did.

"Oh yes," Trojan exclaimed gleefully. "City of Truro was a right menace to the railway in his early years! Racing around with reckless abandon, insulting engines from other railways and charming his passengers. Young Truro truly was a riot, people and smaller engines loved him. He never cared for the hierarchy. How do you think he got so famous and popular in the first place, Quack? City Class's doesn't even rank close to a King class you know?"

Duck stopped stunned and Trojan glanced at him. The saddletank was right, it was strange that a City class was given higher respect than a King or a Star class, even with the 100mph record to his name.. By all technicalities, a King Class or Lode Star should have been in charge of the preserved Great Western Engines yet here was the City of Truro, given the highest respect of all of them.

Was that why King Edward I resented him? How did Lode Star feel about this?

Duck felt dread grow in his boiler.

How had he never realised just how strange the hierarchy of the Great Western Railway's preserved Steam Engines was?

He truly was out of touch with the Railway he once held so dearly, felt so proud to be a part of and upheld so tenaciously. The fact he didn't even know Truro's past before he'd been preserved or become famous. Duck felt the walls of reality falling around him.

"What's the matter Rectangle?"

"How come Truro never told me this stuff?" He asked, feeling slightly betrayed. He'd thought that Truro was his friend and yet all of this was new information to him. "What's going on in the Great Western these days? I knew Truro was famous when I was younger, I always heard the bigger engines talking about him but-"

"Don't take it personally Quack," Trojan reassured the Pannier. "Truro settled a lot after the LNER bought him. He calmed down a lot although he still picked fights with Scotsman and other record holders. I think being abandoned by the Great Western really hurt him, you know? I'd feel betrayed if my railway didn't bother to even try and save me, you know?"

"Right."

"As for the Great Western higher-ups, it's probably best you avoided all that nonsense," Trojan assured him. "It's nothing but highly strung engines with sticks up their classes. Pendennis and meself don't even bother half the time," Trojan remarked.

Duck didn't look convinced but he'd heard Gordon talk about Mainland engines and their problems. It wasn't pleasant.

"Still though, I thought I knew Truro," Duck said glumly and Trojan looked at him concerned. "I don't mean, knowing his true name and all that but, I don't know I guess I misinterpreted our friendship."

Duck had never questioned Truro on his feelings about being sold to the LNER. He never brought it up as he imagined it was in poor taste to speak to a high-class engine about such things.

It was like when he constantly brought up the Great Western to Oliver until he had one day snapped at Duck, distraught at the fact that the 'Great Western Way' Duck held so highly had left him to rust, harvest his parts for other engines and wither away into nothing despite all his hard work.

He'd never really confronted the fact that maybe the City of Truro himself had felt the same way.

Duck felt the seeds of conflict and anxiety that had been planted by meeting the Twin King Class's begin to sprout.

He was starting to realise that the Great Western Way perhaps wasn't the right way after all.

"It's good that you got to know Truro when he was older," Trojan pointed out, trying to reassure the pannier. "You got to see him at his best when he'd matured and a good ambassador for the Railway."

Duck sighed frustrated.

"I guess," he muttered.

Trojan seemed to realise Duck was getting frustrated and paused, looking at him, raising his eyebrow in concern.

"You alright Montague?" He asked and Duck sighed again.

"I don't know," Duck muttered quietly. His thoughts drifted to the comments made by King Edward I. "Maybe I have been on this island for too long. Maybe the Great Western Railway wasn't what I thought it was."

Trojan's expression grew even more concerned.

"You know that Green King fella is wrong, right? He doesn't represent our railway at all. His brother too, they're both upper-class twits that never saw the true railway for what it was. It was us, getting down and dirty and giving them what for, you know? Pendennis, George and Truro, they're what we stood for," Trojan assured the Pannier.

Duck looked at Trojan who was gazing at him encouragingly.

"I suppose you're right," Duck relented.

Still, the doubts circled at the back of Duck's mind. He looked up at the castle quietly.

He felt lost and confused.

"Listen, the big man will defend you if you're worried about using the Green King's true name, he's defended another pannier who did a similar thing to Lode Star," Trojan was trying desperately to cheer up and reassure the now depressed looking Pannier. "Lode Star's is a real piece of work if you think the Green King is bad."

Duck looked up at the saddletank gratefully. He didn't feel better but he knew that Trojan was trying his best.

"Thanks, Trojan," Duck smiled and him and Trojan beamed back at him.

"Please, it's Hywell friend," Trojan insisted and Duck's smile widened. If he hadn't made a good impression on the King Class's, then he'd at least made a friend of this Saddle tank. "If it's any consolation, Pendennis Castle likes you too."

"Well, at least I made a good impression on at least two people," Duck laughed. "Sorry about just then, I'm just overthinking about stuff I guess."

"Don't worry about it, happens to the best of us Rectangle," Trojan beamed at him, his rough and tough personality making Duck feel at ease.

Duck and Trojan continued to the castle berths where people were scurrying around, clearly, something big had just happened and people were in some kind of frenzy. An ambulance was parked near the museum and police cars loitered around.

"What happened here?" Duck asked bewildered.

"Something involved a less pleasant engine also named after a duck," Trojan muttered, narrowing his eyes as he watched the emergency cavalcade.

"You mean, Mallard? The record holder?"

"Ay, that's the one."

"What happened? Did it have anything thing to do with what Green Arrow-"

He was cut off as a high-pitched shriek came from the engine berths of the castle.

The Saddle-tank and the pannier glanced at each other before quickly steaming towards the engine berths.

"Explain to me Blue Peter," The Duchess asked crossly to the A2 Peppercorn sat before her. "Why do you insist on being nothing but rude to your cousin?"

"She's not my cousin!" Blue Peter snapped angrily. "She's a replica who mocks my previous class's engines!"

"And yet she has been accepted by your designer's estate, she has been excepted by the other engines of the LNER," Duchess argued. "She does not deserve a cold shoulder from her only family member."

Blue Peter glared at the ground before him. He didn't want to get into this, not something so personal in front of the Duchess and Scots guardsman who was staring at him with disgust.

"Did Tornado ask you to speak for her?" he asked bitterly and the Duchess gave a small 'humph'.

"Certainly not!" The Duchess sounded insulted that Blue Peter would even suggest such a thing. "I speak for myself and I think Tornado deserves an apology for how you've been treating her all these years!"

"Tornado deserves nothing from me!" Blue Peter shouted back and the Royal Scot glared at him, rolling forward in a clear threat towards Blue Peter.

Blue Peter paled and rolled backwards, realising that it probably wasn't the best thing to yell at a royal engine.

"I- I apologise for my disrespect ma'am," Blue Peter remarked sheepishly. "But I would prefer it if you would stay out of my family matters please ma'am."

The Duchess stared at Blue Peter, scrutinising his engine in its entirety, before making her next declaration.

"Very well then, I will do as you ask and remain out of your personal affairs Blue Peter, however, this means that until you resolve your issues with Tornado, you will no longer be permitted on royal grounds," she declared and immediately Blue Peter's eyes widened in shock.

"No wait, please ma'am!"

"Guardsman, please escort Blue Peter out of the Royal yards," The Duchess ordered and the Royal Scot gave a grunt in affirmation.

"Duchess please!" Blue Peter begged and made to attempt to roll forward but the large Royal Scot rolled forward blocking his path to the Duchess.

"Move," the Guardsman ordered in a deep gravelled voice, his tone threatening and fierce.

Blue Peter was by no means a pushover but he wasn't stupid enough to pick a fight with one of the Royal Engine's personal friends.

With a reluctant puff of steam, Blue Peter backed away from the Royal engine and the Scots Guardsman.

His resentment towards Tornado grew as he did so but he knew, deep down that the Royal Engine was ultimately right.

Lady had wanted to double-check on the City of Truro. He was a kind-hearted and gentle old soul that had been through a lot. Being one of the wardens of Gold Dust, he knew of her and the true nature of her existence.

Out of all the wardens, Truro was her favourite. He was good-humoured and he loved the company of others, even if he wasn't talking, he simply liked to sit and listen to a good friend no matter if you were ranting about something or just wanted to talk about nothing. He was good like that.

Although she adored Flying Scotsman, Coppernob, Duchess of Hamilton and 737, there was something about the Great Western Railway's warden that just felt comforting and sweet. As if you could tell him your darkest secrets, not be judged and be reassured that they would remain safe until the ends of the Earth itself.

When Lady appeared before the City of Truro back in her little scarlet and gold engine she was shocked to find the awful state the engine was in.

"Truro?" She asked her old friend deeply concerned.

He was just sitting there motionless, his paint faded and looked like it was coated in thick black crude oil. His face was slack and his front wheels were mangled and damaged.

He wasn't asleep, there was something about him that looked off. Had been in Mallard's presence for so long really caused that much damage?

Maybe she had misjudged her priorities. Perhaps she should have focused on Truro instead of Scotsman.

Lady cursed her lack of foresight and approached her friend's silent engine cautiously. He didn't react and he wasn't asleep. Truro was usually a light sleeper, awake at the smallest sound.

Lady approached Truro until their buffers were touching.

Truro was a huge engine compared to her. He towered over her, the light from the skylight behind him made him look menacing as he seemed to engulf her with his shadow.

She gave him a slight push with her buffers in an attempt to wake him up but the City class did not respond at all. His face simply remained slack and unnaturally pale. She realised, much to her horror that he looked completely lifeless. A dead engine.

Small fractures had appeared on his face near the sides of his smokebox door, the first early warning signs of the Cold Iron Sleep.

"Oh no! Truro!" She felt her fear and panic rise. She'd been so focused on Scotsman that she'd forgotten her friend. She couldn't let Truro pass.

Lady reached within her, feeling gold dust pool and transfer to Truro through their touching buffers. As she did so she felt something cold and dark grip her so tightly that it hurt. She tried to pull away but found that she couldn't.

She hesitantly glanced up at Truro and found black smoke clinging to Truro's boiler, making itself known, laughing and jeering at her menacingly.

Truro himself now had his eyes open and was trembling violently, the black smoke's hold in him tight and unforgiving. It had been a trick. The Black Smoke had somehow forced Truro into doing its bidding, making him appear defenceless so that she would approach.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out weakly. "Lady I'm sorry!"

Lady tried to pull away but the black smoke held firm keeping her in contact with the City of Truro who seemed completely defeated, slack and unable to even resist or fight the black smoke's influence as it used him like a puppet to get a hold of Lady.

Lady shrieked as the black smoke began to drain her good dust, its mannerisms aggressive and almost laughing as the little scarlet engine struggled and cried. Truro could only watch on helplessly.

Dread and fear flooded Lady. If the Black smoke was to devour her then there would be no hope. There would be no more sentient engines.

It felt like an eternity until the doors to the berth were violently swung open, Duck and Trojan steaming in with a great sense of urgency.

"Truro!" Duck shouted steaming towards him. He stopped as the black smoke hovered around Truro threateningly, tightening its grip on the older engine.

"Get Lady away from me!" Truro commanded the two little tank engines.

Duck hesitated, uncertain of what to do, however, Trojan immediately coupled to Lady and yanked her away from the Great Western's leader. Lady gave a yelp of fright from the sudden movement but then immediately began thanking the saddle tank for saving her from the black smoke.

The Black smoke, furious at having its prey taken away from it, made a loud horrid shrieking and screaming sound like nails down a chalkboard. It began to attack City of Truro who cried out in pain, deep cracks suddenly appearing on his face.

"Truro!" Duck yelled terrified. "Truro no!"

Duck didn't understand what was going on, what this strange black substance that appeared to be neither liquid nor gas was or who the little red engine was but he knew that whatever the black stuff was doing was killing Truro.

Duck tried to steam towards Truro but Truro glared at him.

"Stay back!" He shouted at Duck. "Keep away from me!"

"But, no Truro!" Duck shouted trying to get close, ignoring Truro's commands but the second he got within a few metres of the famous Great Western engine, Duck suddenly found himself paralysed with complete fear.

Something cold, fearful and eldritch reached deep into his boiler and he felt a dread he never had before.

He didn't know how long he was standing there until he was suddenly yanked backwards out of his trace by an extremely strong engine.

"Duck!" Green Arrow's voice called to him. "Duck are you okay? Answer me! Montague!"

Duck seemed the shake himself out of the strange cold trace he'd been in and suddenly became aware of Green Arrowlooking at him concerned while the little red engine sat shivering behind a protective Trojan who was on high vigilance.

"I- I- I'm fine, I think-" Duck mumbled but Green Arrow looked unconvinced.

"You don't look fine, you're trembling from rails to chimney!" Arrow tutted looking unconvinced.

"Truro!" Duck suddenly shouted. "He's in danger! Truro-"

Duck tried to go back into the berths but Green Arrow held fast, Duck straining against the coupling.

"Flying Scotsman is dealing with it," Green Arrow assured Duck.

"But-"

"Let him deal with it, this is not something that we can do," Arrow urged Duck. "I don't want to see my friend get hurt Duck!"

Duck paused.

"Your friend?" He asked.

"Of course Duck, are we not friends?"

Duck looked at his buffers and stopped fighting Arrow.

"Yes Arrow, but Truro, he was dying," Duck urged the bigger green engine.

"Considering what I saw Flying Scotsman just do, I think he'll be fine," Arrow argued. "Besides, considering how close Truro and Scotsman are, I think he is the last person that's going to let Truro die."

Arrow was right. If anyone was going to fight tooth and nail to save Truro, it was going to be Flying Scotsman. Sensing Duck had come to his senses, Trojan smiled at him.

"It'll be alright Duck, Truro's a big old tough boy, nothing's going to get the better of him without a good fight."

Trojan gave him a reassuring smile and behind him, although he couldn't see, he knew Arrow was doing the same.

They just had to wait and hope for the best.

Wardens and their representative Railways:

Flying Scotsman - LNER

Coppernob - Furness Railway

Duchess of Hamilton - LMS

737 - SR

City of Truro - GWR

Cookies if you know who 737 is.

~For updates, extra lore or to ask questions or discuss the fic, you can find me on tornadoyoungiron on tumblr

There is also a Tumblr where you can directly ask the characters of this story at Ask Young Iron